


Into That Darkness

by Auredosa



Category: Hitman (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Bad Ending, Death, Gen, Memories, Regret, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:54:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26035987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auredosa/pseuds/Auredosa
Summary: They were outgunned, outmanned, outnumbered, out planned. Those bastards were going to get away with everything.And now, Grey was out of time.
Relationships: Agent 47 & Lucas Grey
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	Into That Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this sitting in my notebook for a while. I think I wanted to write a generic scene where Lucas Grey dies, just for the angst's sake. Obviously, he could go out a hundred different ways, so I didn't bother to come up with any specific set of circumstances. This is kinda those last few paragraphs after all the plot stuff would've been covered, and it's all sad last-breath stuff. Lastly, this songfic was inspired by Will Cookson's "Into That Darkness." I really like his music-check him out on YouTube!

_I’ve travelled far off countries, I’ve seen many far off things, but I’ve never left his man-shaped cage or shaken off this skin._

How funny it is, Grey thought, that he’s been to almost every country on this planet, and yet, his world was only as big as a handful of people and one abandoned asylum in Romania. He might have been the boy who escaped, but he wasn’t any less trapped than he was all those years ago. And most tragic of all, it’s nobody’s fault but his. He kept the shackles on. Dead doctors and men in suits couldn’t care less about him all these years later. But he still does-and he just had to drag his only friend down with, didn’t he?

_Got a picture of a little boy as he reached towards the sun, but now more sand’s gone through the glass than there’s still left to run._

He pulled the polaroid out of his jacket with the last bit of strength left in him. He always kept it on him, just as a reminder to find him, finish what they’d started and finally leave it all behind. He clutched it between his numbing fingers as he lay on the ground, blood pooling under his body. They’d done so much, and yet, it wasn’t enough. They were outgunned, outmanned, outnumbered, out planned. Those bastards were going to get away with everything.

And now, Grey was out of time.

His vision burned with tears before it began to blacken at the edges. He held the photograph above him one last time.

_And when the lamp is burning low and the stiches slip their seams . . ._

The blinding sunlight dims until the only thing he sees is his brother’s face.

I’m sorry, old friend. At least we tried, he thinks.

What is our purpose?

Before he got an answer, his arm fell on top of his chest, and everything faded to black.

_Into that darkness, we’ll go with our dreams._

**Author's Note:**

> I swear I've got happier HITMAN stuff in my writer's brain. Death, loss, and tragedy are just such big motifs in this franchise that I couldn't resist. Better and more hopeful things are coming, I promise! As always, I'm open to any constructive criticism, and thank you so much for reading.


End file.
